


The Grim

by ML_Fox



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Halloween, Hysteria, Marauders' Era, POV Mary Macdonald, POV Third Person, Superstition, friends - Freeform, the grim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-29
Updated: 2015-10-29
Packaged: 2018-04-28 20:26:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5104625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ML_Fox/pseuds/ML_Fox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sighting of the Grim by four Ravenclaw girls had created hysteria in Hogwarts. Mary Macdonald, an ordinary girl, quelled the panic when she saw a dog one night in the Forbidden Forest during an Astronomy quiz.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Grim

**Author's Note:**

> Another piece I've written in the past two years. One day, a looong time ago, I was scrolling through the "Mary Macondald" tag in Tumblr. I came across this picture in one of those Marauder memories blogs. I made the picture my prompt and the story you will read is the result of that prompt. So I hope you enjoy!

Four bloodcurdling screams—all belonging to girls fourteen years of age—pierced the thick, ominous silence of the Forbidden Forest. Trees shook as wave after wave of noise bounced against the trunks and branches. Creatures started at the sound, their eyes wide and ears twitching. The girls shrieked again and the creatures bolted from their respective perches. The screams travelled, ploughing through the woods towards the line of trees that separated the dark of the forest from Hogwarts.

The girls shot out of the woods, their screams reduced to cries and yelps as they made a beeline for the castle. They reached the school and scrambled in as the doors opened for them; their voices were ear-splitting in the oppressive silence of the school, but not a single soul answered them. They ran—for what seemed like eternity. Soon they arrived in the west wing of the castle, but they didn’t stop; they continued to run, not even pausing for breath, until they stood under the spiral staircase leading to the Ravenclaw tower. They clambered up, tripping over their feet and the steps in their harried effort to reach the common room. The fastest girl got to the door and banged on it; Ravenclaw’s bronze knocker came to life and asked a riddle: “How can a person go eight days without sleep?”

“No, no, no, no, no, we don’t have time!”

“Open the door, please!”

“Please, please, please!”

“Merlin, I don’t want to die—I don’t _want_ to die!”

All the girls now banged on the door, crying and pleading with the knocker to let them through, but the magical object remained pleasantly stoic and asked the riddle again. Finally the door swung open, revealing a disgruntled and messy-haired sixth year boy clad in crumpled jeans and a wrinkled black top. With cries of relief, the girls tumbled inside the common room; they collapsed on the floor, holding onto each other and blubbering.

“You lot broke curfew!” were the first words out of the boy as he closed the door. He turned to them and frowned when he saw the state they were in. “What’s wrong—why’re you all upset?”

“I-in the forest!” one of the girls gasped. “W-we s-saw it!”

At that point the candles and torches in the room flickered to life as the students filed out of the dormitories, disturbed by the ruckus. The circled the girls and the boy, both of whom didn’t notice that they had attracted an audience. None of the newcomers dared to intrude upon the scene; instead they watched it unfold whilst whispering amongst each other.

The boy crouched before the girl who spoke, compelled by the fear in her voice and the foreboding feeling that crawled up his spine. The next question escaped his lips before he could even ask himself if he _really_ wanted to know the answer at all. “What d’you mean? What did you see in the forest?”

“THE GRIM!” the girl blurted while her friends squealed.

The boy jerked backwards as the crowd burst into frenzied murmurs, his brows raised so high that they were about to disappear up the tips of his fringe. “ _What_?”

* * *

Breakfast was abuzz with gossip.

However, Mary Macdonald was oblivious as she was too busy organising the books cradled in her arms. She entered the Great Hall, ignorant of the volume of the frenetic conversations floating in the air. A first year barrelled her way towards the entrance, shooting straight in Mary’s path. Just as they were about to collide Mary—her eyes still on the books—merely sidestepped the lass and continued on. Meanwhile, the girl still dashed and finally ran into someone else. The sounds of two bodies crashing into each other and onto the floor reverberated throughout the hall. Most laughed, some sympathised, but Mary didn’t even flinch.

She finally looked up when she approached the Gryffindor table. For the first time she noticed the raucous atmosphere. She frowned, overwhelmed, and asked herself what caused such disorder.

“Mary! Just in time!” Marlene called from the centre of the table, a short distance from where Mary stood. Across Marlene was Lily; she looked over her shoulder at Mary and smiled.

“In time for what? What’s going on—why’s it so loud?” Mary said as she approached. She sat next to Lily and placed the books next to her on the bench.

“Probably something to do with what Marlene’s about to say,” Lily replied before she popped a piece of sausage in her mouth.

“It _does_! Come.” Marlene grinned and leaned across the table, making Mary and Lily lean across as well. “A few Ravenclaw girls are in hysterics right now! They said they saw _the Grim_ —” she whispered the name, “—in the Forbidden Forest.”

There was a pregnant pause.

“Why are you whispering the name?” Lily murmured, her eyes meeting Mary’s and then turning back to Marlene. “It’s not like it’s You-Know-Who’s name.”

“It might as well be! People are sensitive to this sort of stuff.”

Mary sighed. “What are they doing in the forest in the first place?”

“No idea.” Marlene shrugged and straightened. “From what I heard—or _Cresswell_ can tell you. Oi—OI! Cresswell!”

“ _No_.”

Mary heard footsteps behind her and tipped her head up to look at Dirk Cresswell. His irate expression told her that he was not at all pleased that Marlene called on him. He was a sixth year Ravenclaw, but for some reason he seemed to carry himself with maturity. Perhaps it was his height—she literally had to _crane_ her neck to look at him. It could be the way he answered so bluntly to everyone he talked to.

“Don’t be rude!” Marlene retorted with a grin. “Sit with us for a bit, yeah? We’ve a few questions for you.”

“You can stop playing coy, McKinnon.” Cresswell crossed his arms. “You want to ask about last night—just like every person who called on me this morning.”

“I seem to remember you ugly mug belonging to the Ravenclaw table, Cresswell.”

Mary took her eyes off Cresswell and looked behind him. Approaching the table were the Marauders—sans Remus. The sight of the boys made Mary’s eyes widen. All of them had dark, purplish circles under their eyes, which contrasted against the pallor of their complexion. James and Sirius’ hair were messier than usual, and Peter looked like he was about to collapse. Despite their looks, however, they managed to adopt the same cool attitude and walked with a strut that had become their signature.

“And _you’re_ the picture of perfect beauty aren’t you, Black?” Cresswell drawled.

Sirius smirked and stopped before Cresswell. “Well, the ladies all flock to me for a reason—right, Macdonald?”

Mary blinked at her name and caught Sirius winking at her. Heat rushed to her face when she realised that she had been staring at him for a while— _not_ that she was actively staring, mind. While she listened to the banter she didn’t think about looking at anywhere else. She didn’t answer him; instead she looked away from him and began taking food from the serving plates.

Cresswell snorted. “Sure.”

“Cresswell’s right, though,” Marlene chimed. “You lads look… er...”

“Like shite,” Lily added. “Marlene means to say that you lads look like shite.”

“And a _very_ good morning to you too, beautiful.” James quipped at Lily with a cocky, albeit tired, smile. Without another word, he sat next to Marlene and began to pile food on his plate.

Mary frowned at James’ lack of energy. She glanced at Lily and saw that she had a look of disbelief on her face. Meanwhile, Peter followed James’ lead and sat next to him. With nothing else to contribute to the conversation, Mary tucked in, but continued to watch the goings on at the table.

“You’re all right, though, yeah?” Marlene said, voice gentle as she attempted to flatten James’ hair.

“Fine.” James mumbled through a mouthful of scrambled eggs.

“Well!” Cresswell boomed. “I’m off—lots of things to do, you know.”

“Oi! Don’t you walk away!” Marlene snapped, hand poised over James’ head. “Sit. _Now_.”

Cresswell huffed; Mary and Lily scooted apart as he plopped right between them. Mary bumped into her books, causing it to topple off the bench. She turned to the mess, heart sinking, before casting her eyes upward and sighing. She spent a few good minutes organising that—

“Let me.”

Suddenly, Mary’s vision was full of shaggy hair as Sirius bent down to pick up the books. Brows raised slightly, she watched the Marauder stack the books before handing it to her with a good natured grin. She took them. “Thank you.”

“No worries—this seat taken?”

Mary saw Sirius gesture at the empty space beside her. “Erm… no.”

“Great.” Sirius dumped his own books on the table and plonked down next to her. He then proceeded to help himself with breakfast. Mary looked away from him and found that rest of the group staring at them. She said nothing and continued to eat.

“Okay, then. Now that we’re all settled—come, Cresswell, tell us.” Marlene commanded.

“Merlin. _Fine_.” Cresswell sighed. “I was doing homework in the common room all night and I fell asleep. One in the morning, right, and I heard this banging and crying behind the door—woke me right up. So I opened it and these four fourth year girls just fell on the bloody floor. They were in a _state_. So I asked them why they were crying and that, and they said they saw the-bloody-Grim in the forest.”

“Wait,” Mary interjected, finally looked up from her plate. “What were they doing in the forest?”

“Rowena knows, all right? I didn’t think to ask them that—I was too busy thinking how _mad_ they all sounded.”

“I take it you don’t believe them.” Lily commented with amusement.

“Who would? It’s a bloody superstition!”

“Did they say what it looked like?” Marlene said, eager.

“Yeah—black, they said. Black… large… shaggy… and eyes like—”

A loud choking sound interrupted Cresswell. He, Mary, Lily, and Marlene looked away from each other to where the Marauders sat. Peter was having a coughing fit; he had one of his palms flat against his chest and his face was cherry red; beads of sweat formed along his hairline as he sputtered and choked. James slapped Peter’s back repeatedly and as Mary watched, she reckoned the force of James’ blows was _too_ hard, but she didn’t say anything.

“Godric, Pete, drink some water!” Marlene cried, scrambling to get a goblet.

“On it.” Sirius had a goblet in front of him, which he proceeded to fill with water. He handed the goblet to Peter who took it, guzzled the liquid down, and then slammed the goblet down on the table with a gasp. “Take it easy, mate.”

“Ate too fast, Pettigrew?” Cresswell sniggered.

“All right?” James said, rubbing Peter’s back as he panted.

“I think I… need to go to the… Hospital Wing.” Peter rasped.

Mary started when, beside her, Sirius jumped to his feet. “Let’s go, then,” he said as he gathered his books.

“Right.” James stood up as well and took Peter with him. “Wouldn’t want you to choke to death now, hey?”

The four, all with varying degrees of surprise and confusion on their faces, watched as the three boys stepped away from the table and scurried to the entrance. Sirius, with his long strides and face pace, was already ahead. Meanwhile, James and Peter stopped after a few steps; James looked over his shoulder at them and grinned. “See you later, ladies… Cresswell.”

“Take care of Peter!” Marlene said. James nodded, turned back, and moved on.

“That was strange,” Cresswell said once the boys were out of the hall.

“Believe me, Cresswell, that’s the most normal thing they’ve done— _ever_ ,” Lily snorted.

“Never mind that now!” Marlene reached across and rapped Cresswell on the wrist. “Go on, continue.”

Cresswell rolled his eyes, but complied. Soon, he had Marlene and Lily’s attention again. Mary, on the other hand, had tuned him out. She stared at the entrance with a passive expression and after a few minutes she returned to her breakfast and only gave Cresswell half her attention. 

* * *

In the days following the Grim incident, the school underwent mass hysteria—particularly the younger students. Classes were disrupted as students who fell asleep woke up, screaming about the spectral dog appearing in their reams. Every dark corner became the omen’s hiding place; students cried and swore they saw the hound’s eyes glowing in the shadows. The nights weren’t better either; pupils had woken in the middle of the night blubbering about the Grim lurking in their nightmares—sleep was no longer an enjoyable affair. Almost every day the Hospital Wing was filled with students recovering from panic attacks and Madame Pomfrey was none too happy to suddenly find herself busy.

One day, Mary was on her way to Transfiguration when a group of first year girls erupted into screams in front of her. Mary’s heart dropped and she ran towards them; she looked over their heads and saw a girl prone on the floor, eyes closed and pale. She turned to the girl closest to her and asked: “What happened?”

The girl, lips trembling and tears clinging to her lashes, looked up at Mary. “I-it was the G-Grim! I-it p-possessed her!”

Mary’s brows rose at that—the Grim was an _omen_ , not a spirit. “All right,” she said, voice gentle as she took her wand. She charmed her textbooks to float and follow her before she bent down and carefully took the girl in her arms. She faced the rest of the first years, slightly overwhelmed at how close to panic and upset they all looked. “Okay. I’ll take her to the Hospital Wing,” she said to them. “You ladies go to class, yeah? Go on now.” She waited and watched as the girls gave their friend one last, worried looks before scurrying off. Mary sighed, adjusted the girl in her arms, and walked towards the direction of the Hospital Wing.

The trip took five minutes—the girl in her arms was surprisingly lighter than she thought. When she arrived, she stepped inside and found most of the beds occupied by students—all of whom were asleep. Pomfrey flitted to each bed tucking blankets and checking vitals.

“What’s wrong?” Pomfrey demanded when she saw Mary.

“I don’t know; I saw her like this.”

“All right, all right, all right—put her on the bed. I’ll be right with you.” Pomfrey dashed off to another room while Mary walked towards the empty bed closest to the doors.

“Macdonald.”

Mary stopped and looked over her shoulder at the familiar voice. “Oh, Black,” she said when she spotted Sirius leaning against the entrance doors, arms and ankles crossed. He smiled at her—a vague, small, and subtle curve of his lips that made her feel that he knew something she didn’t. “I didn’t see you there.”

“Ouch.” Sirius clutched at his heart and winced.

Mary shook her head and moved on.

“Do you need help?” Sirius said as he caught up with her.

“No, thanks.” Mary stopped by the bed and carefully placed the girl on it. She then took her wand and charmed her books to fall back into her arms. Pomfrey emerged from the room and came up behind her with a tray of phials arranged in a straight line. Mary stepped back and watched the Matron do her work. She glanced at Sirius. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh. Found a lad panicking over the Grim—brought him in.”

“Ah.”

“Yours?”

“Erm…” Mary flashed him a small smile. “Her friends told me the Grim possessed her—”

“Exaggerations!” Pomfrey interrupted.

“Well, I knew that—”

“I meant all this hogwash with the Grim!” Pomfrey faced them, a phial in hand. “The poor girl has not slept properly in days—she is _exhausted_. This panic must stop! Look at what it’s doing to the students!”

“Will she be okay?” Mary asked as Pomfrey returned to the girl.

“Yes, yes. With rest she will be.” Pomfrey took another phial and rubbed its contents on the girl’s forehead. “Thank you for bringing her, Miss Macdonald. You two may return to your classes; there’s nothing more you can do for now.”

Mary and Sirius looked at each other. He grinned at her, stepped aside, and swept his hand towards the door. She inclined her head at him and walked ahead, but he caught up with her and together they exited the Hospital Wing. For a while neither of them said anything to each other and the atmosphere around them grew awkward as time stretched on. Mary didn’t know what to say to Sirius—she had never been alone with him before. She appraised him from the corner of her eye and saw a cheery expression on his face and the way he walked in a graceful and confident manner. Cold electricity raced down her back when he caught her staring; she looked away, but didn’t miss the sheepish grin he made.

“So,” Sirius began, “it’s been three weeks; these rumours are still going on.”

“Yeah,” Mary sighed.

“Do—do you… do you believe it? Any of it?”

“Erm… sort of?” Mary met Sirius’ surprised eyes and chuckled. “Well—okay. I didn’t believe magic existed before and clearly I was wrong about that so now I’m willing to believe in anything.”

“Right.”

“But I don’t think it warrants panic, do you? It _is_ just superstition—some Muggles hate black cats, but they don’t pass out over it.”

“Why do Muggles hate black cats?”

Mary glanced at Sirius again, saw his confused frown, and chuckled. “They cause misfortune—apparently.”

“I see.”

* * *

Days after the Hospital Wing Mary, along with the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw Astronomy class, was in an approved area of the Forbidden Forest for a quiz. Professor Ophius announced it last week when he lectured them on the importance being able to locate the stars and constellations in a “real time environment”. Once they arrived in the clearing, Ophius gave the students empty charts and positioned them in different spots in the area. They were meant to fill in the charts with the stars and constellations according to their position.

Mary twirled the telescope in her fingers as she glanced at the chart Ophius gave her; he positioned her directly under the only spot of moonlight in the area, just a few meters from the line of trees. She then glanced up at her classmates and saw that most of them had started. Her eyes widened and she puffed her cheeks, shoulders sagging as she glanced at the charts again. “Okay then.” Mary mumbled to herself. She sat on the ground, plopped the chart and pen on her lap, and extended the telescope so she could look at the skies through it. After a few seconds of searching she found a cluster of stars in an ‘m’ shape. Mary looked away from the eyepiece, plotted the stars on the charts, and labelled it. “Found you, Cassiopeia.”

Minutes passed and the silence of the forest grew oppressive. Mary’s head swung up and down as she oscillated between the telescope and the quiz. The charts on her lap that had started out empty were now half-filled with star names, planets, and constellations. Soon awareness of the quiz itself, the class, and the location left her—so immersed she was in her task that a sudden rustling noise made her jump. Her head snapped up from the chart, shoulders tingling and a cold sensation racing down her spine. She held her breath, heart racing. When she recognised what she saw her fried nerves began to calm.

Sitting in front of her, just outside the line of trees, was a dog. It was ridiculously large, probably the same size as Hagrid’s Fang, and with fur so black and shaggy it made the dog look larger. Mary squinted when she noticed the dog’s eyes—it was a strange colour of grey, unusual from any other dog eyes she’d seen. Its tongue lolled out and with its mouth stretched on either side it seemed to grin at her.

Mary didn’t know what to do. She looked over her shoulder and saw the class still busy with their respective charts. She faced the dog again. “Erm…” she set her things aside, got to her feet, and slowly approached. “Hi?”

The dog woofed—a cheerful sound. Its tail wagged.

The sound melted Mary’s heart and made her smile. She stopped a short distance from the dog, crouched, and held out her hand. Without hesitation, the dog trotted towards her and licked her hand. “Aw,” Mary crooned and petted the dog’s head when it nudged its snout at her palm. “Hello there.”

The dog woofed again and closed its eyes when she scratched the back of its ear. As she scratched, Mary stared at the dog as a thought niggled at the back of her mind. A memory crept into her thoughts—a conversation, exciting because Marlene was eager to talk about it. Cresswell was there, wasn’t he? He gave information, with some reluctance. “ _Oh_ ,” Mary breathed as realisation hit her. She remembered now… she and her friends talked to Cresswell the day after the fourth year Ravenclaw girls allegedly saw the Grim. “I see. _You’re_ the one people have been panicking over, right? It’s you.”

The dog whined and pushed its head harder against her hand. Suddenly it hopped up and placed its paws on her shoulders. Mary huffed at the dog’s weight, but laughed when it licked up her cheek. She ran her hand along its side and tried to get it off her at the same time.

“Macdonald!”

Mary looked over her shoulder and, as though summoned by her memory, saw Cresswell jogging towards her. Behind him, the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw students started to gather and effectively put an end to the quiz. Behind them, Ophius tried to get them to refocus—with little success. She felt the rumble first before she heard the growl. She glanced up at the dog and saw it bare its fangs at Cresswell. When the Ravenclaw boy got close the dog barked and Creswell stopped with his hands in front of him.

“Don’t like him, do you?” Mary mumbled.

The dog woofed at her and squirmed.

“Merlin, Macdonald,” Cresswell said, disbelief clear in his voice. “Is that—?”

“Not the Grim,” Mary said as the dog woofed again before leaping off Mary and bounding away. Mary rose to her feet and watched as the dog melted into the darkness before brushing her clothes. “It’s just a dog—Hagrid probably owns him… or maybe someone from Hogsmeade.”

“A dog?” Cresswell said. “You reckon that’s what the girls saw?”

Mary faced him and shrugged. “I reckon so. You saw him, yeah? As black as night—the girls probably saw him, but since it’s so dark they thought it was the Grim.”

Cresswell threw up his hands. “I _knew_ it. Finally, an explanation to all this madness.”

Mary chuckled and then caught sight of the crowd behind him. People were whispering amongst each other, but she recognised the fear in the faces she saw. She walked up to Cresswell and gestured at the rest of the class. “Probably best to spread the word so the others would stop worrying.”

“Brilliant idea.” Cresswell wasted no time in returning to the cohort. The voices coming from the group increased in volume as they pelted Cresswell with question after question of what they just witnessed. Their panic was so palpable, but Cresswell quelled all that by raising his voice, forcing the group to silence.

Mary watched the Ravenclaw boy explain. She glanced back to where the dog disappeared, smiled, and then walked back to the group so she could help Cresswell with the explanations.


End file.
